


True Love

by sailorgreywolf



Series: The Soviet Files [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Inspired by Music, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3858517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorgreywolf/pseuds/sailorgreywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a songfic of True Love by Thou Shalt Not</p>
    </blockquote>





	True Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is a songfic of True Love by Thou Shalt Not

Russia was standing in the small drawing room by himself, trying to order his own thoughts. The last year had been endlessly confusing for him. He had gone from having the man he had loved for years in manacles to having an enemy he had despised it his bed. It had all been a rollercoaster of emotions, all the screams of pain and moans of ecstasy. Naturally, Russia had kept his demeanor completely cold and icy. It would be dangerous to let Prussia, now East Germany, know how deep the feelings really went. Russia could pretend that it was only lust, but he knew better; these were affections that went back centuries.

Russia sighed and tried to clear his thoughts by walking around the room, although his long strides made the circle around the room very short. He then walked to the widow and pulled back one of the draperies. The world outside was dark, the sun having already set and left nothing but a red glow on the very edge of the horizon. Russia had lost track of how late in the day it really was. His mind had been fixed so fully on the moment that was fast approaching that he hadn't spared a moment to check the time. Now that he realized his fixation was costing him a sense of time, he glanced over at the clock. He realized with a sinking feeling that he no longer had time to kill.

The door on the other side of the room swung open and Prussia walked through it.

_In walks the villain of this tale, the door closing silent behind you_

The albino looked very good considering how much he had been through since the end of the war. There was still a certain look of hollowness behind his eyes, a remnant of starvation and torture. The grey uniform of East Germany was brand new, and it was a perfect fit. Russia had based the uniform that he had found Prussia most irresistible in. But, at the moment he regretted that decision. In the dappled light that was thrown by the lights in the room, the grey seemed to fade to black and the uniform was once again that of the SS, the exact uniform that Prussia had worn when he betrayed Russia. The old anger again came to the surface of his mind. It was hard to push it back down. The war was over and Prussia had been punished for his sins already. Russia had to keep what he was feeling to himself, it was imperative that Prussia thought he was manipulative and unfeeling. Only then would he be able to maintain control over the man. So, with this in mind he looked directly at Prussia with a slight smile carefully placed on his lips.

_I smile and offer you something to drink._

There was already a bottle and a pair of glasses sitting on the table. The liquor of choice was vodka, as was usual. It was prevalent and it was strong, both of which made it ideal for this sort of social situation where so much was buried just beneath the surface. More importantly, it made Russia feel comfortable. All of this belonged to him, including the drinks and including the man who was now sitting right next to him on the couch, one leg crossed over the other. He spoke as he poured out two glasses of vodka, "It has been a while, Gil. Here, drink this. Then tell me how matters in Berlin are going." The light fell over the albino's face and revealed a smirk.

_In hopes that a taste will remind you._

The expression, the position, and the trick of the light on the uniform all harkened back to another exchange, which was more than a decade ago now. Russia had trusted completely and utterly, like a child, and that was perhaps what made him the maddest. The albino had lied beautifully, using exactly the right words to play Russia's feelings for him.

_That poison tastes better with grenadine, that deceit's always lovely with lime_

The albino reached over the small space between them and took one of the glasses of vodka, and as he took it, his fingers brushed against the skin of Russia's hand. The touch was soft and thrilling, enough to make small sparks dance over the Russian's skin. But, his mind was still fixed on a different situation at a different time. He was thinking of the way he had laid his hand on the other's face. It had been the first real romantic contact they had had and it had been a lie. Russia had held onto that contact with hope right up until the moment Prussia had put a gun to him.

_That bitterness can be so sweet, when it is served in the right place and at the right time._

The pain of the betrayal came bubbling back up to the surface again, just as it had over and over again since he had taken control of East Germany. He turned his attention back to the present, or at least tried to. Prussia was still looking at him with his eyes still full of something that looked very much like affection. But, Russia didn't trust the emotion; he had been fooled by false adoration before.

The albino took a drink before responding to the order he had been given, "As you wish, Ivan. America has accepted the idea that the division between East and West is permanent. My brother doesn't seem to share the same realism." Russia comprehended the words, but they meant nothing to him. He had already heard the news and had asked simply for the sake.

He responded with a question that would likely come across as a test, "And how do you feel about it?" The red eyes narrowed slightly, as though attempting to process the question.   
Russia could see the man measuring his response carefully before saying, "What do you mean?"

Although, he thought he had been perfectly clear the first time, Russia clarified, "How do you feel about being permanently separated from your capitalist brother? About being mine forever?"   
Prussia took another drink before leaning forward and responding, his voice strong and confident, "I wouldn't want it any other way. I believe in the strength of our ideology." Russia couldn't help but wonder how much of this was genuine, it certainly sounded genuine. He had to think that part of it had to be brainwashing and part of it had to be fear.

Again, he looked directly at Prussia and with another contrived smile, said, "Well, let's drink to our eventual victory."

_And we'll toast to a lifetime of happiness_

They both took another drink in complete silence. It was the first time Russia had taken a drink in the conversation, and the alcohol did less to steady him than he had hoped. He noticed that the albino had uncrossed his legs and leaned slightly forward, which was sending him a very subtle message about what the other wanted. Russia knew he should have been happy with these signs of lust and vocalizations of loyalty, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting something more, something deeper. But, he was also wary of the way his feelings could be used against him as had happened before.

He gently put one hand on the albino's thigh; the skin was warm, even through the layers of cloth. The gesture was meant to express a possibility, not a certainty. Prussia shifted slightly closer, apparently responding to the touch. He spoke, "We're not the only communist countries having an affair, you know." It was a piece of banter, but the lighthearted nature could help the conversation.

Russia already knew whom Prussia was talking about; he wasn't completely oblivious to the relationships between his other satellite states. He continued the banter, "Poland and Lithuania do seem to enjoy each other's company."  
The albino responded immediately with a slight laugh, "I always thought Lithuania preferred men." The sharp witty comment was exactly what Russia had always liked about Prussia, that careless disdain.   
He responded with a laugh and said, moving his hand farther up the other's thigh, "You have a cruel wit, Gil."

 _And we'll catch up on mutual friends. Yes, we'll laugh with good cheer and not mention that we're just a means to each of our ends_.

They were very close together now and Prussia was looking directly up into Russia's violet eyes. He responded again with a teasing smile, "I thought that was what you liked about me." Russia felt a chill rush over his skin at the tone of the statement. He could see lust in the way that the albino's body was reacting. He first put down the almost entirely untouched glass of vodka down on the table before he moved his unoccupied hand to the albino's cheek. If he were totally expressive, Russia would break down now and tell Prussia about the way his heart was pounding in his chest right now. His worries about this relationship, about being deceived again were disappearing in the pure rush of emotions. Desperate, reckless feeling was rising to the surface and it was all Russia could do to repress it.

He responded in a level voice, "That is true. I've missed you the past few days, Gil." He hadn't meant to add the last part, but it had slipped out all the same. It was certainly true. Russia had sent the albino back to East Germany for the past few days in order to officially establish a communist regime. However, during that time he had found himself missing having someone next to him in bed.

_And by midnight you'll be so convinced that all of our time apart was some mistake_

Prussia responded, "I missed you too," He paused for a moment and then added softly, "master." Russia's already palpitating heart sped up still more, because the other had just used the title that the Russian had trained him to use. It was a sign of actual devotion, of actual love, that Russia couldn't ignore. His last ounce of caution failed him and he closed the space between them, finally connecting their lips. He wrapped his arms around Prussia, comforted by just feeling the body so tactile and so reactive.

_I'll hold you, my love, and never let go. I'll hold you, my love, and never tire._

This was exactly what he wanted, having the warmth of Prussia pressed against him. Russia was still getting used to the idea of being able to kiss this man, who had always seemed so unreachable, so freely. There was still something surreal, even unbelievable about this moment. To take advantage of the position, he pressed his tongue into the other's mouth. The taste was not what he had always expected when he had fantasized about the albino. It was both softer and sweeter than he had ever imagined. As he deepened the kiss, he felt the other climb onto his lap. The weight was oddly comforting. They eventually broke apart, only so that both of them could pull in deep unsteady breaths.

_I'll hold you, my love, by the throat. I'll hold you, my love, over the fire._

As he looked up at those ruby eyes and an unbidden memory came back. He remembered the same eyes mocking him from Leningrad. The rage came flooding back. He put one hand to the pale skin of the other's throat. With one hand, he could have crushed the life out of Prussia. But, he had already tried that once. He had been physically unable to do it, even in the heat of battle, even when the wounds of war were still unhealed. So, instead he caressed the neck and moved down to Prussia's collar, which he unbuttoned. Both of the albino's hands were now on Russia's shoulders, and the hold was firm.

But, it was also clear that he was used to allowing the Russian dominance, so he patiently waited as Russia unbuttoned the front of the uniform to allow him to have access to the porcelain chest. Once the front of the uniform was completely open, the Russian carefully grabbed one of the pink nipples. He knew by now that Prussia's chest was sensitive, more so than most men even. He twisted the nipple just enough to elicit a breathy moan. The masochist in Prussia was so very easy to thrill with pain. The moan was beautifully submissive, helpless even. Russia watched as the other reacted, the slight arch of the back, the delicate trembling of the lower lip. The breaths that followed the initial moan were shallow and quick. Russia leaned in still closer so his lips were only inches from the other's.

_So breathe with me, love; only love will work now_

Suddenly a glint appeared in the half-lidded red eyes. Without any warning, Prussia took the initiative and slammed their lips back together. The battle of tongues commenced again, Russia allowing the other to think that he was winning for a moment. The boldness amused him; it was the trademark of a country that was used to military conquest. With his lips still occupied, the Russians attention was then drawn to the albino's nimble pale hands, one of which had worked itself up the back of Russia's neck and buried itself in the ash blonde hair. The grip was strong, almost possessive; it was as if Prussia was claiming Russia as fully as Russia had claimed him.

_Hold onto my love like it was stolen._

The albino disengaged his lips only long enough to hoarsely whisper, "I have missed your touch, Vanya." Russia recaptured the albino's lips instead of giving a response. His passion was free now and he could do what he pleased, what he had always wanted to be able to do. He pulled Prussia even more firmly into his lap. With his only free hand, the albino unbuttoned Russia's shirt. Only once the shirt was completely open, did Prussia pull out to the kiss. Russia wasn't necessarily disappointed, but he was intrigued by the action.

Before he had been completely in control of the encounter, but this was actually more thrilling. Prussia smirked once before leaning over and kissing down the Russian's neck. Between the soft kisses and the unmistakable grinding of Prussia's hips against him, Russia's blood was on fire. But, being dominated by the German also brought up a set of more violent emotions. He thought of the Nazi, the vicious man who had done so much damage over so much of Europe. His feelings of rage mixed with the lust into one driving need to dominate. He could have control, he could prove that he had won.

_I burn with your love like I was Burkinau_

The urge to dominate overpowered Russia's senses and he had no choice but to act upon it. He grabbed the albino and flipped the pair of them over so that he was on top. His hands were shaking as he unbuttoned his own pants and slipped them off. Then, as he captured Prussia's lips with his own, effectively swallowing all objections to this change of positions, he did the same to the German's pants. He ran his hands over the alabaster skin and folded the legs around his waist. Prussia had melted under the Russian's touch and was now completely pliable.

_I'll conquer your love like you were Poland_

Russia knew that the albino's neck was sensitive, so he made use of it. He broke away from the kiss and started to kiss down the white neck. Russia could taste the sheen of sweat on Prussia's skin. Between moans and gasps, the albino managed to say, "Stop teasing me!" But, he had no right to command from the position he was in. Russia was eager, but he wanted to prolong this experience.

He had wanted to have Prussia like this for so long, he didn't want this to be over quickly. He leaned in closer and whispered in the other's ear, "What was that, my pet?" The Russian moved his hand down the inside of the albino's thigh, eliciting a shiver from the man.   
Prussia tried again, "Just do it. Just take me."

It was still an order, but it was enough for now. As gently as he possibly could with violent passion racing through his veins, Russia pushed into the other. Without preparation, he knew how much this would hurt, but that was part of the point. This was not supposed to be all soft touches.

_I'll act on my love like Pontius Pilate_

The albino arched and groaned, his chest pressing against Russia's. Russia could feel the heart racing right against his own. The twin beats complimented each other perfectly, and it was with this biological metronome that Russia set his pace. He started slowly, making slow thrusts that made the albino groan and shake against him. But, his restraint soon broke and he accelerated his movements. He knew that the best way to finish off Prussia was to engage his masochistic side, so he moved his mouth to the nipple he had been teasing earlier. Russia then sunk his teeth into the skin of the chest until he could taste blood on his tongue.

_I'll give you my love like I was Brutus_

That was enough for Prussia to only need a thrust or two more to come. The tightening of the albino around him finished off Russia. But he refused to let this be the end, not yet, so he didn't pull out yet. He could feel heat radiating off of the white skin in waves. The skin itself was covered with a sheen of sweat, and the albino's chest was heaving with the effort of pulling in deep breaths. Russia vaguely wondered if he was in the same state. He could feel his own hair sticking to his forehead.

_I'll radiate love like Three Mile Island_

Without thinking about maintaining his control, Russia said, "I love you, Gil." He wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his mouth. But when Prussia's red eyes met his, they were full of emotion, completely unreadable emotion. The albino responded with a smile, almost a smirk, "I love you too, I thought you already knew." The words ignited something in Russia's chest, it burned warm and pleasant. He hadn't thought what it would be like to have this affection returned and it was a wonderful glow. A completely genuine smile spread across his lips. He didn't speak; instead he leaned over and joined their lips again.

_I'll prove my love like I was Judas._


End file.
